


The end.

by Prawnperson



Category: Don’t Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Goodbyes, Implied Character Death, Inter dimensional travel, Portals, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-22 23:56:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20330638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prawnperson/pseuds/Prawnperson
Summary: Into the unknown.





	1. The end of the Constant

Wilson is the first to go through. 

He’s the first to step his foot into the swirling black and white gash in the centre of their base. He’s the first to go, shoulders tensed in fear of the unknown. Some of the others have seen portals like this before. They’ve been through them, and it’s never led anywhere better. Different, yes, but not better.

Still, what choice do they have, at this point?

The world around them is crumbling and quivering like a leaf in a storm. They either go into the unknown-into one of the many cavernous portals that have been opened since Wagstaff took place on the throne-or stay here and perish with the Constant.

So they leave.

There’s an odd sort of a scramble. A panic that most of the survivors haven’t experienced since before they entered into the relative stability of the group camp. A need to gather up the necessary supplies on the off chance that they do end up somewhere worse. 

After what they think must be an hour, Wilson has not returned from the portal. Willow is practically chewing the bit to go after him, and, even though many of the other survivors are apprehensive, they know they can’t stay here for much longer.

Wendy and Webber go through the portal hand in hand after Willow. Webber is clinging onto Flycatcher, Wendy to Abigail’s flower. Some of the survivors want to take nothing with them. Want to leave all physical memories of this horrid, glitching world behind. Nobody can blame them.

It’s not long until Walani and WX-78 are left behind in a camp that’s ghostly quiet.

“We have to leave.”

“I KNOW.”

“We can’t stay here.”

“I KNOW.”

Walani looks around the camp one last time whilst WX stares despondently at the many rifts within the world. It’s like tattered fabric at this point. Walani has never seen the base this empty. This lifeless. It gives her the creeps.  
She finds WX’s hand sneaking into her’s, and she laced their fingers together in response. Cowabunga has already gone through, herded along by Chester with the other puppies after Willow. They really are all alone.

They make their first steps towards the portal, taking the last look around the place that they’ve called home for an uncertain amount of time. WX-78 feels a splintering pain down the centre of their chest as they listen to Wagstaff’s heavily distorted breathing mixed in with the background noise of their surroundings.

“Are you ready?”

Walani asks, squeezing their joined hands. WX-78 glances at the empty tents, and the crockpots, and every other little thing that’s made this hellish space more efficient and welcoming than the overworld ever was for them. It only gives them resolve to go whenever Walani’s hand in theirs knocks them out of their trance.

They sigh deeply, hollowly, and nod.

“INTO THE UNKNOWN.”

Walani gives them a quick, sympathetic smile that they weakly return, and, with their backs turned to the world that’s slowly but surely folding in on itself, they step through the portal.

The feeling that washes over them both is strange. Hot and cold and solid and fluid. The one stable, tangible feeling is where their hands are joined. It’s difficult to process anything. The movement is overwhelming, as is the sound.

That’s why it’s so surprising whenever they end up being thrown unceremoniously from the now-closed portal with a thump, onto Wilson’s living room rug.


	2. The start of something new

It’s...weird to be back.

The real world is so quiet. So frighteningly, peacefully quiet. WX-78 finds themselves missing the constant noise. Even the other survivors going about seems overly silent.

Whenever Walani and WX had tumbled out of the portal, they had been met with a house. A very dishevelled, dusty, dirty house that looked every bit abandoned. Walani supposes it would do, since, from what she can gather from the partially hysterical Wilson, they’ve been gone for two years in real time. Two whole years.

One of the first orders of business is going out to get supplies. There’s already enough firewood in Wilson’s shed, kept mostly dry by the flimsy structure. The main issue is food. Needless to say, any and all food in Wilson’s larder has long since rotted into mush, and for the first time in a long, long span, the survivors are actually able to go out and get food without any fear of death, poisoning, or mutilation.

Some of the group chooses to stay at Wilson’s house, either deciding that it would be a good idea to clean it up a little or wanting to simply enjoy the presence of a solid structure. Wilson and Willow, Wendy and Webber, WX-78 and Walani, and Winona. It makes for a reasonable party, and Wilson is armed with a substantial handful of cash from his poorly hidden safe-behind the bucket in the downstairs cupboard-which he was saving for a special occasion. If this isn’t a special occasion, he doesn’t know what is.

The first person they come into contact with screams. It’s unsurprising. With a half-spider child, a robot, and a reclusive scientist the whole town thought to be deceased all contained within the group, it was really to be expected they’d receive such a strong reaction. Wilson is only glad that Abigail isn’t around at present.

After deciding that Willow and Wilson will go first thing tomorrow morning to sort out the business of death and disappearance with the local police, they make their purchases, and go back home. It’s as if the past two years are only just sinking in in the form of exhaustion. Winona carries Webber home on her back, Wendy barely drags along behind, and Willow wishes she was still young enough for it to be socially acceptable to sit on the curb and rest.

———

Walani pulls WX into a warm embrace beside her. They’re lying on Wilson’s living room floor, as close as they can possibly get. WX is quiet. Walani can’t blame them.

“I LOVE YOU.”

They whisper. It’s uncharacteristically soft. Walani mumbles it back, only just interrupted by the sound of Winona snoring from the other side of the dark room, and Charlie’s mousy little sighs in between. Walani can’t remember the last time she was ever allowed to find total darkness peaceful.

———

WX-78 misses Wagstaff. It’s understandable. They can’t help but feel like they could have done something. Said something. Maybe they could have made him realise what he was planning to do was a stupid, stupid idea. It doesn’t help that Wilson’s Voxola radio is still sitting on his workbench as if to taunt the robot.

They’re petting Cowabunga whenever Walani comes up to them and situates herself rather comfortably in their lap.

“You’ll be ok.”

She says. It’s a simple statement. Calming. WX-78 feels their empathy module stutter in their chassis.

“I KNOW.”

Walani takes their free hand and presses it to the side of her face. WX lets her lean into the touch.

“If you stop crying, I’ll buy you a half of sweets.”

WX-78 lets out a soft laugh at the sheer silliness of it all, and pinches at her cheek with as much tenderness as they can muster.

“SHUT UP...”  
———

The survivors leave at different rates.

Wheeler is one of the first to go. She takes Wormwood with her, instructed to find him a good home. The survivors wish them both a careful farewell. Wilson packs as much food for them as is physically possible. 

Everyone else trickles out, and, as time goes by, the group of survivors gets smaller and smaller. For once, however, it is not due to a sudden onslaught of deaths. People are going home. People are leaving for the right reasons.

Walani’s family shows up twelve days after the survivors first arrive. There is a series of crushing hugs and crying and laughing. WX-78 stands awkwardly beside her until Walani introduces them. The few seconds of silence are agonising, before WX gets pulled into a hug by Walani’s older brother that would knock the air out of them if they had any lungs.

———

“Are you happy?”

Walani asks, sitting beside WX-78 in the drivers seat of her cousin’s car. WX-78 is staring out the window to Wilson’s house, where he, Willow and Webber are waving like the idiotic fleshlings that they are. Still, WX supposes they can’t begrudge them a little bit of happiness. They’ve never seen any of them look so content in themselves.

“I THINK I AM.”

They say. They turned the car to a start a few minutes ago. They aren’t sure why they’re still waiting. They’ve said all of their goodbyes already. 

It’s only whenever they turn to face Walani that they realise maybe, this is good. 

The Constant, horrible as it was, was their home. The place that taught them how to act how they act now. The place that taught them fear and pain and sadness, and how to channel all of those things into a bitter nature and a hard outer shell. It was the place where they had found the current version of themselves.

This place, though, the real world. This is Walani’s home. This is where she is happiest, safest, the most like herself. This is where she belongs. WX-78 wants to be where she is, no matter how different it may be. No matter what.

Maybe, they can make her home theirs, too.

“I AM HAPPY.”

Walani nods in their direction, turns her head toward the lane out of Wilson’s garden, and presses her foot to the pedal.

———

“Why don’t we live somewhere by the sea?”

Walani asks. WX-78 stops eating the little red fruit from Wilson’s garden-it’s a funny taste, anyways- and wonders for a moment. It hadn’t really occurred to them that they were only moving in with Walani’s family to decide what to do next. 

“AS LONG AS YOU DON’T EXPECT ME TO GO SWIM IN IT.”

Walani giggles, thumps the back of her hand across WX-78’s chest. WX merely leans in and kisses her, and the motion feels so comfortably routine.

For once, they have no fear of being attacked as they melt into each other’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the unofficial end of the story-not to worry, though. There’s one last chapter on the way..


	3. Goodnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a good ending, hopefully.

October 21st 1923  
11:04 PM  
Whitby

———

It’s nice to have real pyjamas. Real, soft, silky pyjamas. The kind that she hasn’t worn since she was eighteen. Even after several months, she still isn’t quite used to it.

“HAVE YOU SEEN THIS?”

WX asks, voice laced with marvel as they sit next to her, propped up against the headboard on a mass of pillows. 

“THE AVERAGE BEE MAKES ONLY ONE TWELFTH OF A TEASPOON OF HONEY IN ITS LIFE.”

They’re reading out from the little beekeeper’s gazette in their lap. Walani isn’t sure how they managed to get so many old issues. All she does know is that they’ve been enthralled by them for the past fortnight. 

“Fascinatin’, babe.”

She wriggles herself around under the covers, enjoying the way her nightie rustles against the mattress-the wonderfully soft mattress. WX-78 yawns, eyes drooping shut every few seconds. 

“Come cuddle with me!”

Walani coos, pouting out her lower lip and making grabby hands towards her bot friend. WX-78 feigns a sigh and shuts their magazine, setting it on the bedside and moving their arms to wrap around Walani’s small frame. Their fingers thread through her still damp hair, but it’s just dry enough to be painless for them.

“YOU SMELL NICE.”

WX mumbles, pressing their forehead against hers. Walani hums, curling her arms around WX’s shoulders.

“The hair’s mulsified.”

WX-78 moves from her head to her neck, letting out a sound similar to a purr.

“WHAT ABOUT THE REST OF YOU, THEN?”

“Camay.”

They continue the purring against her collar. Walani can feel the vibration, and she giggles quietly.

“That feels nice.”

There’s a span of silence where they simply lie against each other, pulse and mechanics slowing respectively.

She reluctantly removes her hands from their body to switch off WX’s reading lamp. They have trinkets now. Mostly of bees. Little ceramic ornaments and, more pleasantly for Walani to note, small things that she’s given them. Sand dollars and notes and even one of her hair berets.

She goes to say something more, but finds WX already asleep against her.

“Goodnight, Wex.”

Walani whispers. Even in their sleep, the robot mumbles a reply.

“SLEEP WELL...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope that you guys enjoyed this series! It was so much fun to write and so lovely to receive so many positive comments. Thank you so much to all of my friends who helped me out with it, and I hopefully won’t be done writing about these guys just yet. Thank you for reading! :)

**Author's Note:**

> 2 more chapters to go, boys.


End file.
